My Children Disowned Me At Christmas, So I Gave Them An Envelope. The Next Day, I Woke Up To 67 Missed Calls

Leaving The City And Memories Behind

The engines surged with power, pressing me firmly back against the leather seat. The plane accelerated down the runway, shaking slightly until the wheels finally left the pavement.

The ground fell away rapidly, turning cars into ants and houses into tiny boxes. I watched the city that held so many painful memories shrink into insignificance.

We punched through a layer of thick white clouds, leaving the grey winter day behind for the brilliant sunshine of the upper atmosphere.